


BLUE CMBYN Erotica Series 1 - 5

by BLUEFICTION2



Category: Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Erotica, Food Kink, Leather Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Elio Perlman, POV Oliver (Call Me By Your Name), Power Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLUEFICTION2/pseuds/BLUEFICTION2
Summary: BlueCMBYNFiction Early Erotica Series 1 - 5 builds in intensity as the series goes along. Originally written for another forum, this series follows Elio and Oliver as they explore sexual boundaries and their fascination with each other.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Kudos: 16





	1. 1. Dancing Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very early erotica involving the characters, Elio Perlman and his lover Oliver (the man with no last name) as they settle into their lives, living somewhere near Oliver's university in New England. 
> 
> Chapters 1 - 2 are somewhat mild, the others get longer and steamier as the series goes along. 
> 
> Chapters 6 - 7 will be in a separate entry.

Interlude - Date Night 

Dancing Queen 

(Dinner and Dancing but not in that order)  


__

■ 1. Dancing Queen  
__

■Elio:

I've been bugging Oliver to take me out for a long time. Out amongst people, not necessarily out-out. But he's always too busy or I'm too tired and so we're never really on the same page to actually do anything about it. 

And we have to be careful; his university doesn't know about us. We can't take the chance of someone recognizing us and getting us in trouble. Or more importantly, Oliver in trouble.  
__

And then one evening, Oliver surprises me. 

"Put on your dancing shoes, we're going out." He says; almost euphoric in his declaration. 

I don't have dancing shoes (what are they anyway?), so I ask him if sneakers will do; hesitant to let him know how ignorant I am in this and not sure if there will be a dress code.

"Don't worry about it, you'll be fine." He assures me. "It's just a term of speech. But wear a t-shirt with your black jeans."

Okay, so he's telling me what to wear now?  
__

It has become a long and tedious drive and I'm full of questions about tonight, so passing the time is easy. But Oliver just laughs at my over jubilant chatter; giving me that look that says, 'enough already, trust me, it's going to be great'.  
__

Entering a building that looks very much like a warehouse from the outside, I find the inside to be different from anything I've ever imagined.

With the music's thumping so loud I can barely hear, Oliver checks our coats, to lead me further into the cavernous room.

"Have you been here before?" I shout over the noise, watching the strobes flash, feeling the floor vibrate under the feet of what seems to be a hundred dancing men.

"A time or two." He shouts back.

I look at him in shock.

"When I was younger." He adds.

"Really?" I'm astounded; my voice squeaking.

"Yep. In my salad days - "

I'm not sure what he means but it sounds like he's not only came here to dance.

Oliver pulls me close and we're soon swaying to the beat. He removes his arms from around my neck to slide them down to my hips. 

I can feel his erection rubbing mine and I now know this is not only dancing but essentially fucking, only standing up.  
__

"Come on." He says pulling me towards the bar.

He orders two beers with chasers, and we quickly down the strong liquor before turning to lean back against the bar.

Oliver clinks his bottle to mine as we watch hundreds of sweaty men gyrating on the dance floor.  
__

"What do you think of your first dance club." Oliver asks.

"It's hot." Not just hot in temperature, but I'm sure he understands.

"What?" He shouts.

"HOT!" I yell back. 

And loud.  
__

Finishing our drinks, Oliver swivels to put the bottles on the bar. He leans in to say something to the bartender and I turn around, I get face full of cold water blasting from the nozzle in the barkeep's hand.

It hits my chest, drenching my shirt so it becomes translucent. 

It's cold but hot as hell.

I laugh as Oliver takes my hand to find a less crowded corner, where he pushes the wet fabric up to kiss and lick the cool stripe of refreshment dripping down towards my stomach. 

Cupping his hand over my crotch, he manipulates me through the wet denim -- and I think I could really like it here.  
__

But when a song comes on that he really loves, there he is, dragging me back onto the dance floor. 

It's disconcerting at best as I feel hundreds of eyes watching me. And watching as Oliver pulls my hips close.   
__

We hang around for more than an hour before Oliver's had enough and wants to head home.

"I like it here." I protest in a slurred voice. 

"You're a popular boy." Oliver sounds none too pleased. "And I'm not about to fuck you out here on the dance floor, in public." 

"Have you?" I ask.

"What?"

"Have you been fucked here in public?" Please say no, please say no.

But he doesn't say anything at all; pulling me along by the hand. And on the way to grab our coats, we pass two guys doing just that, and I believe I now know the answer.  
__

We get into the car where Oliver lets it idle to warm up, so I lean over to kiss him, hold him, oh hell, crawl all over him, but the fucking mechanics of the car get in the way. Fucking Miata; he had to pick one of the smallest cars to fuck your boyfriend in. So it now becomes imperative that land speed records will be crushed on perhaps our fastest ride home from a nightclub or anywhere.   
__

Safely inside, we turn on our stereo to dance around on our living room carpet. It's silly and fun and before long, Oliver takes the bottom of my still damp t-shirt to peel it over my head, holding the material up against my raised arms to slowly, and fucking deliberately, run his hand over my stomach, playing with my navel before unbuttoning my jeans.

And then, like the guy on the dance floor, he drops to his knees as Gloria Gaynor fades into Abba and I'm completely lost in the music of Oliver.  
__  
__

■ Fin - (Interlude) 1. Dancing Queen   
  
__


	2. 2. Dinner Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diner and a Movie - but not in that order. Part 2 Dinner Out

Dinner Out

from Third Christmas Series (Interlude) Date Night

__  
__

■ 2. Dinner Out 

■ Elio:

The long flowing tablecloths are adorned with romantic candlelight on our trip out to a very fancy restaurant situated far off the beaten path from university life.

And in our dark corner all I want to do is let Oliver to know just how very happy I am to be here. And letting Oliver be very happy as well is just, well, an unanticipated bonus. 

So, taking off my shoe, I move my foot to the seat of his chair, letting it lie between his slightly spread legs where my toes brazenly inch forward to find his crotch, curling over his tumescence. 

And I can't help but be taken back to our time on the berm. Only he can't escape me now. Nor should he.

The corner is so dark that I can barely make out his blue irises but I know his eyes are big, much bigger than usual, the pupils dilated in what can only be considered as extreme arousal. 

He continues eating; cutting his steak into thick strips, but his gaze rests squarely on me.

On my face, my eyes, my mouth.

He slowly licks his lips, his tongue running back and forth over his top lip before taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

I'm mesmerized and can't look away.

My foot stills, my concentration diverted by what he's doing with his mouth.

Oliver sets the utensils down, and picking up a piece of steak with his fingers, he draws the dripping strip over his lips to lick just the very the tip of the overly rare meat, sensuously suckling at the juices before popping the morsel into his mouth. 

His eyes haven't left mine, and I'm caught up in the moment.

He barely leans forward, and I can feel his fingers circling my ankle, gripping my foot, to press and massage my sole into his erection.

Sliding downwards in my seat, I can barely sit up where Oliver has obviously made his point, releasing my foot to resume his meal.

But the joke is on me. I'm so hard watching him. I mean, how can we leave the restaurant like this?

Or better still, how can I leave the restaurant like this.  
__

Oliver excuses himself to use the washroom while we await our dessert, and not being born yesterday, I get up to follow him to the back of the fancy establishment. 

The washroom is dimly lit and gloriously empty, but I see Oliver's shoes peeking out from the last stall. 

I barely have time to set my hand on the door when I'm caught in his grip; the door slamming behind me and I'm soon kneeling, facing the eye of his storm.  
__

Eating our dessert is pure agony, as I watch him manipulate the whipped cream topping of our shared banana split sundae. 

And as he offers up the sweet confection, there's no 'here comes the airplane', but a concerted slow torture that has my breath hitching and my cock twitching. The heaping spoonful of ice cream and topping that's melting and dripping off the bowl of the spoon now lands in a puddle on the edge of my plate. 

I'm so aroused, I hurt. But Oliver only pops the cherry into his mouth; smiling at my discomfort.  
__  
__

Oliver heads to take his shower alone; and as I turn on the overhead lights of our condo, there is a distinct feeling of dejection, chastisement and perhaps a little bit embarrassed. I've gone too far.

But all that changes as Oliver comes out of the shower dripping wet, his hair slicked back looking like a model in a fashion magazine.

In the process of removing my pants, one leg in, one leg out, Oliver leans down to hug me from behind and I have the unmistakable feeling of him poking into my back; this may end well after all.

But he tips us over to wrestle me down to the floor; where grabbing my covered leg in his iron grip, he stands up, to drag me across the rug to the side of the bed. And I'm laughing so hard, there's no fight left in me.

Lying on the floor, not sure of what Oliver will do next, I gasp when he sits himself down on the edge of our bed; slowly peeling my sock away to massage his thumbs deeply into the pad of my foot.

I'm afraid he'll tickle me and try to sit up. But Oliver presses one foot against my chest, lowering me, not so gently, back down to the floor.

He keeps up the pressure as he blows warm air onto the bottom of my arch. And I shiver and laugh at the same time, until he does the unexpected.

Pulling my leg even higher, he removes his foot from my chest to nudge my under ware aside, burrowing to nest unapologetically into the heat my crotch.

His toes curl around me, wherever did he get that idea; rubbing in slow circles as I harden under his care.

Oliver watches my face as he puts my foot to his lips, licking the soul, before taking my smallest toe into his mouth. The suction is beyond anything imaginable, my arousal at its peak, and I'm taken over the cliff in huge shaking waves of release.

And I must admit, I lie there for a very long time wondering what the fuck happened.

__  
__

■ Fin - (Interlude) 2. Dinner Out 


	3. 3. Date Night - Movie Night - Turnabout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 Date Night - Movie Night
> 
> Elio and Oliver deal with the situation differently as Oliver takes his time in leaving for their movie night.

Erotica Series (Interlude)

DATE NIGHT 3.1 Movie Night - Elio (January 1986)  
DATE NIGHT 3.2 Turnabout - Oliver

(Interlude) DATE NIGHT

__  
__

■ 3. Movie Night - Elio  
__

■ Elio:

Oliver is still in the spare room we use as his office when it's time to leave for the movie.

And looking at my watch, I know that if we don't leave soon, we'll miss the feature.

__

But in checking to see if he's in any way ready, I see he's still on the phone.

He nods as I enter the study, holding up one finger, indicating 'one more minute', but it's never just that, although at least it's not the middle finger this time.

I wander over to rub his shoulders, noticing how tense he is. But in I pulling his rolling chair away from the desk, he further evades me by moving the receiver to his other ear, concentrating on the conversation when I really want him concentrating on me.  
__

"Time to go." I whisper but he just keeps talking to his friend Joe.

I lean over him, nibbling around his ear, sticking my tongue inside to flick and swirl, then I sit down on top of him, rocking my ass gently onto his lap.

He groans but has not ended the call.

What could be more fucking important than this?

"If you're not off the phone in two minutes, we're going to miss the movie." I hiss, getting up, spinning his chair to face the window.

Oliver twists the cord over his head, the receiver glued to his ear.

Enough of this shit, if he's wants me to go there; he's fucking asking for it.  
__

But Oliver has no idea what I’m up to as he lets me loosen his tie, pulling it over his head while he switches the receiver again; completely oblivious to my intent.

I take his free hand in mine, tenderly kissing around his palm, so he does not notice that I've slipped the loop over his wrist. And before he knows it, I've got that wrist tied to the arm of his chair.

"What the fuck?"

Okay, now he is aware but not overly concerned, still thinking he's got everything under control.

Sure, he can think that but he's really not.  
__

I stand behind him, rubbing his shoulders, kissing his neck, running my fingers through his hair, where I tug hard, forcing his head back so he's looking up at me.

"Gotta go." He hurriedly tells Joe. But it's really too late.

He's well and truly caught.  
__

I keep massaging his head, running my fingers through his hair, over his eyebrows, his eyelids, and he closes his eyes, enjoying every minute of Elio therapy.

"You're too tense." I tell him. "You've got to relax more." Parroting Marzia's words from long ago.

Dangerous words now.

I lean forward to lick his mouth in an upside down kiss.

It's different this way, this controlled aggression. This topping.  
__

He reaches back with his free hand to cup my head, deepening the kiss, holding me there, where he can control the action.

"Oh no you don't."

I take his hand, returning it to the chair.

His fingers grip the arm, as I come around to face him. He smiling but not quite sure where I'm going with this; seemingly totally out of his depth.

I step back so he can in no way touch me.

"Elio - "

"I'm not going to fuck you, we don't have time, and frankly you don't deserve it, but I'll let you suck me if you ask nicely."

I give him that mocking smile he saw on the berm when I first took his cock in my hand, asking if he was offended.

He doesn't answer right away.

"I'll let you think about it." I smirk.

As I turn to leave, he spins the chair away from me. Then he's there; the chair suddenly blocking my path.

"Elio."

"No, you don't get to talk. You did enough talking to Joe."

"We'll miss the movie." He mocks.

I give him a look; the look that says he's fucked up and he better find a way to make it up to me.

"What do you want, Elio?"

"You can start by shutting up."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Do you really want to do it this way?" I ask him, not expecting an answer.  
__

"First, you don't talk. Second, you don't talk and third, you don't talk." I try to sound stern.

He nods, but his smile tells me he's kind of getting into this.

Facing him, I put my hands over his forearms and kneel between his legs to bury my face in his crotch.

He's liking this. A lot.

And I love his smell, that end of the day muskiness.  
__

I lick him through the soft denim, tracing his cock with my tongue, wetting the fabric, and opening my mouth wide, I cover him, breathing onto him as he groans loudly.

"Problem?" I lift my head to ask with another smirk.

He loves that playful smirk.

His blue eyes stare into mine, telegraphing his need but remaining silent.

"Good boy."

It's funny how his words are coming back to haunt him - as I taunt him.  
__

I get up to lean back against his desk, and pushing my hand down past my waistband I cup and stroke myself, the outline of my hand clear as I play with my cock; Oliver intently watching the action.

"My eyes are up here." I remind him, pointing up as I nudge his leg with my foot.

But he hasn't taken his eyes off ME.  
__

I use one fingertip of the other hand to circle the metal button, tracing the zipper all the way down, and I'm reminded of Oliver's long fingers.

There - right there.

Oliver breathes heavily; fuck, I'm breathing heavily as I press my fingers over my cupped hand, stroking myself as I stroke myself. Then it's back up to the button again; opening it slowly.  
__

"Keep your hands on the chair." I remind him as I unzip.

And - his mouth envelopes me.

All at once. All fucking at once.

His head plunges down, his drool dripping down to coat my balls; his tongue peaking out to lick and tickle.

I'm hot. He's hot.

Moving my fingers through his hair, it takes all my composure not to grab the back of his head, to fuck his throat - to use him - roughly.

He's been up for it before. Hell we've done it before. We've done it ALL before.  
__

In my peripheral, I see his hand move from the chair, reach down to unbutton, free his erection, to stroke himself, to get himself off.

But I’ve thought wrong.

He's big and strong and so god-damned fast; his arm snaking around me, spinning me around; pushing me forward to lean over the desk.

My jeans are dragged down. His mouth on me, attached to me – there.

Oh God right there.

Licking me, wetting me, snaking into me.

I don't get a chance to regain control as he pulls me back to sit on him, his heavy arm holding me like a vice.

And he's fucking up into me.

Quick

Urgent strokes

His heat matching mine.

I want to move but it's his show now.

I'm just along for the ride.

__  
__

■ Movie Night - Turnabout - Oliver  
__

■ Oliver:

Elio wants me to go to this fucking movie; something I might add that I have absolutely no interest in. But if he wants to go, well I drag him to tons of shit he hates, so I'll bite the bullet and just fucking go.

I'm on the phone with Joe when I hear him in the other room where he strides in warning me we're going to miss the movie, so I tell him to wait a minute but he comes closer to my desk getting in my face about hurrying up.

A desk I might add that has mountains of shit I need to address.

He pulls my chair around so he can play; thinking just because he's tricky enough to tie my wrist to the chair, he's somehow in control.

That's where his basic trust and naivety trip him up.  
__

So he gives me this spiel about not fucking me, only letting me suck him - if I ask nicely enough, and I'm thinking he's got to be fucking nuts if he thinks he can control me.

Pushing the chair in one great lunge to get in his space, in his face, I let him know I'm ready to play.

But Elio gets down on his knees, holding onto my tied wrist, as he tortures me through the denim, licking the outline of my dick; his mouth covering me where I can feel his hot breath, the moistness of it, sinking into the fabric, accentuating the hardness beneath.

Then, as if he's not arousing me enough, he stands up, leaning against my desk, playing with himself - with me. And I can feel the saliva pooling in my mouth, as if I'm in a fucking Pavlov experiment, and can't control myself long enough to hold it, lick it, swallow him whole.

And that's what I have the opportunity to do.  
__

He likes that I can take all of him, gives him a thrill to get the full treatment so to speak, and I personally love the feel of him pulsing in my throat; that heated beat, the subtle twitch before I hit bottom to use my tongue on him.

His hands press on my head and I know he's a hair-breath from forcing himself on me - which frankly doesn't bother me at all - we've been rougher - he's been rougher.

I 'married' a game little fucker.  
__

I've had enough, when he lets me, and by lets, I mean I go ahead and release what he once jokingly called, the 'beast'; and given he'd never at the time, seen one quite my size, I could appreciate where he was coming from.

He repeated that recently, and I nearly fell on the floor laughing, until we were almost discovered by the night watchman at the university; I didn't need the hassle of explaining the how's and why's of having a student, any student giving me an oral lesson in the lecture hall.  
__

I give him no warning when I take over, bend him ass up on my desk to tongue him, and there it is winking at me, begging for attention. Taking my mouth, my lips, my tongue, as it wets him, readies him, pushes him to the brink.  
__

Elio's more than ready and completely mine when I finally haul him onto my cock; and it's not like he's had a choice when I have my arm banded around him trapping his arms against his sides.

His hands flail in front of him as I piston into his body. And with his head thrown back, I can feel his curls brush against my cheek as he tries to fight my hold.

I'm not punishing him, but keeping him from coming too fast, too early; I need us on the same page.

He gets one hand free to set over mine, covering me, grasping my fingers with his; holding on for dear life.

And when the time is right, I release his arms to fist his cock and he's fucking up into my hand as I pump him inside and out.

Grasping hold of each arm of the chair; he holds on until his knuckles turn white under the strain.

It's violent and raw and I wouldn't have it any other way.  
__

"Happy now?" I ask.

But Elio is completely spent, his ass still pulsing and leaking onto my lap, and I know there's no movie tonight, only this.

And the truth is, it's enough of a stress reliever to get us over the hump that can only be described in its most unadulterated form as "Date Night".  
__  
__

■ Elio:

I don't have the strength to move let alone reprimand him for taking over when it clearly should have been my show.

"Good boy." Oliver kisses my neck as he stretches his arm over to untie himself.

That and his 'happy now' comment should have been a tipping point but right now it's taking all my energy just to breathe.  
__  
__

■Fin - Date Night 3. Elio - Oliver - Elio  
__  
__


	4. 4. Dinner and a Movie - Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. Dinner and a Movie - Control 
> 
> Elio and Oliver experience an encounter in an old movie theatre with two totally different perspectives.

DATE NIGHT 4. Dinner and a Movie - Control

__  
__

■ 4.1 Dinner and a Movie  
__

■ Elio:

The tile is unforgiving on my knees; my hands, clenched, not knowing where to go. Do I put them on my lap? Behind my head? What?

We hadn't discussed this, we haven't discussed this.

It just happened.

Oliver comes closer, inch by inch, backing me into the corner; crowding me as my back comes into contact with the wall.

My head’s tipped down; not looking at him but he wants my eyes up so lifting my chin with his fingertips he holds me there.

Holding onto our gaze, he has my undivided attention; staring at me as I stare up at him.

That beautiful man.

Then he bends down to kiss my face, my forehead, my cheeks, but not my lips. My eyelids are gently closed with a touch of his fingertips; blinding me, making my other senses more aware. More there – just more.

Blinded, I hear him undoing his belt and the zipper being lowered, and I can smell him, the sweat and muskiness of his arousal.

His fingers move from my chin to trace my lips and I'm reminded of hot sunny days, the damp riverbank, and the total wonder at having this man, Oliver, touching me that way.

Wanting me like that.

Oliver traces the outline of my mouth, the upper lip, the lower, and the seam that divides them; pressing on my bottom lip. And I open up so he can delve inside, his finger running around the inside of my lips, my cheeks, touching my teeth. And I sigh in the knowing that he will guide me wherever he needs me to go.

They slide further inside, pushing on my tongue so it lazily moves from side to side as he traces circles around it.

Pressing – positioning.

He puts his other hand to the side of my mouth, caressing the very edge of what soon becomes my smile. And then -

Then -

He chastises me for presuming to be so bold with a light slap that startles me; cupping my cheeks, his thumbs moving up to caress my eyelids, reinforcing the command not to open - not to look - not to watch.

Then those same two thumbs hook into the sides of my mouth; opening me; widening me for him; keeping me open.

And he presents himself; pressing himself into my mouth.

Just a bit. Enough to taste. To lick. To explore.

Should I? Can I?

And now, suddenly, I'm inundated with his size - his breadth.

It stretches me open. Before -

I'm being stuffed, my tongue pressed down, my mouth is full. So full.

He's so there. Waiting. Pulsing.

I breathe through my nose - and now -

He's pushing inside; invading. And it’s too much -

I'm not ready but - I'm taking more - is there more?

I want to fight this rapid intrusion; this total plethora of sensation.

That has me opening - swallowing deep - allowing him even deeper.

His fingers removed - so we're only connected -

Cock to lips

To mouth

To throat.

He puts his hands on either side of my head; holding me steady,

Immobile to this invasion that has control of me.

He's fucking me. Fucking me. Fucking me.

Holy fuck, he's deep.

Tipping my head back, I change the angle to accommodate him; his length.

I'm taking - everything he's got - all that he will give me now.

Deeper so - I'm past tasting - past everything.

I have to breathe, but he takes my air too.

My face - my nose - firmly pressed to his body.

Instinct kicks in and I want to fight; survive this pillaging; this ravaging. This invited trespass.

But I am his.

And my mouth has become a HOLE.

An orifice

An ass

A pussy to breed.

And I'm there for him. Only for him.

And he's there.

Pulsing. Erupting. Finishing. And done.

Done with this thievery of my senses.

__

I stand up, wiping my knees, rubbing at a stain from the not so clean floor.

"You should have brought knee pads."

"Who knew I would be on my knees, sucking cock in a public bathroom?"

"MY COCK."

"Yes dear, your cock."

__

We make our way back into the theater, sitting in the back row to finish what is left of the movie.

"Dinner and a movie - as promised." Oliver's hand caresses my leg.

"Dinner?"

"Yep." He smiles as his fingers trace and travel over cum crusting at the side of my mouth.

__  
__

■ DATE NIGHT 4.2 Control  
__

■ Oliver:

He's got cum in the corner of his mouth ..

MY CUM.

I want to kiss it; lick it off. Taste of him, tasting of me. But it's not about that, he wanted the experience, begged for it.

__

I had him on his knees, eyes closed, mouth open - stretched wide - taking - swallowing -

MY COCK.  
__  
__

We've practiced this; me on him, him on me.

I love it when he takes control.

Love the control he takes; but more so having him deal with that control.

He's new at this - not quite a natural.

I don't think this shit has ever occurred to him before.  
__  
__

■ Oliver:

I'm on my knees, eyes closed; mouth open.

Waiting. He makes me wait. He's got his own rhythm.

And he likes to make me wait.

He knows I hate this.

So he walks around me; touching me here, and there.

My back, a shoulder, my cheek, all over my face.

__

Rubbing my lips – hard. His thumbnail abrading my flesh - my lips.

So they become red and swollen - and ready.

And his thumb's there, pressing for entry; not asking for permission.

Just there. So there.

I lick the tip; swirling my tongue around; tasting the salt of him.

He lets me do it. He shouldn't. I wouldn't.

But he's doing his own thing - getting in my head.

He does that on purpose; making me think so he can surprise me with something else.

I suck his thumb, hard, and I know the suction's going straight to his cock.

My cock.

I wouldn't allow this either.

He's got more to learn.  
__

He removes his thumb, rubbing it around my lips. My HOLE.

That's what he calls it. That's what he calls any hole.  
  
He tilts my head back - back -

I know what's coming - I can't wait.

But he leans over me to kiss my closed eyelids; making sure they stay closed.

Then he licks them. Big sloppy swipes that congeal in my eyelashes.

This is new.

And then he does what I've been expecting, anticipating.

He spits into my mouth, once, and then again.

I hold it there. I won't swallow. Sitting on my tongue. Dripping.

I taught him that too.

__

He dips his cock inside; gathering spit.

Then smearing it around my lips.

Over my cheeks that glisten with slime.

I've done it many times, and not just with him.

But it's an experience he likes.

My mouth is still open and he spits once more before rubbing his cock around my sensitive lips.

Pre-cum mixing with saliva.

I'm in heaven.

He knows I love this - but he does it anyway. 

It’s his gift.

__

I can feel something in his hand - touching - tapping.

And I know what this is.

We talked about it.

He's got a thing for it.

And he drapes it over one of my shoulders as he pushes his cock past my lips.

Just inside like I taught him.

__

He stands there; letting me taste. But no more.

Then he pushes forward past my mouth; into my throat. Further.

And I'm ready for him. Waiting.

As he threads the belt around the back of my neck; holding it loosely until -

He starts moving closer - deeper -

My cock is reciprocating his arousal.

I would have told him about that but he's more into what my throat is doing.

And he's deep. And holding the belt there - tighter - tightening.

No backing out now; he's got me.

And he starts to move.

Fucking. Fucking.

Pulling me forward.

My chin to his balls. And my tongue snakes out to lick, to taste.

Then he's deeper - just by a fraction.

My nose touches him; and I'm cinched tight.

And I can't move. But he does.

His body - his hips - his cock.

Rocking.

Fucking my throat in rapid progression. Drilling deeper.

Taking me however he wants. With -

HIS COCK.

I'm his.

He knows that

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He's mine too.  
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And now he's sitting beside me. Here. Mouth coated with cum. MY CUM

Watching a movie neither of us wanted to see.

My hand on his thigh - his cock - rubbing.

He smiles up at me.

MY ANGEL - not quite an ANGEL. No.

Not an ANGEL tonight.

"You smiled on purpose." I say; knowing the truth; knowing he baited me.

The ANGEL puts his hand over mine; closing his fingers; over my fingers -

Rubbing HIS COCK.

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■ Fin - DATE NIGHT 4. Dinner and a movie - Control  
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	5. 5. Accessories 1 - 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Chapter 5. Accessories 
> 
> Oliver helps calm Elio's nerves before a final concert by taking him on a shopping spree.

CMBYN EROTICA SERIES 5.1 - 5.3 Accessories  
(Prelude to Somewhere in Between 5.4 The Earth and the Stars)

  
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■ 5.1 Accessories SHOES (Interlude)  
■ 5.2 Accessories LEATHER (Interlude)  
■ 5.3 Accessories Oh my .. Oh Fucking My! (Interlude)

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■ 5.1 Accessories 1. SHOES (Interlude)

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■ Elio:

With two more concerts coming up, Oliver has been planning ahead for the ceremonies and events that will mark the end of term. And of course, our trip back to Italy. So Oliver has dragged me to an outlet store looking to get yet another suit, shoes and whatever-the-fuck other things Oliver thinks he needs.

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Oliver runs his hands over my new jacket; checking the fit, he says; making sure the seams are perfect, that the fabric falls the way it should.

The white curtain around the changing area is little barrier to the outside world. And even though I can't really see people walking by through the opaqueness, I can hear their voices and it seems as if they are right in here with us.

Oliver sits down opposite me, 'helping’ to take off another pair of shoes.

He removes one shoe, placing my foot in his hands, massaging the arch with his strong fingers. It feels so good that I forget we're in a public place.

I want to slide down in the chair, dissolve in the sensations that take me back to an embarrassing nosebleed after the berm when all I could think of was Oliver; his quick mind, his gorgeous body and what his cock looked like.

His hand slides up my pant leg; rubbing my calf, lightly pulling the hairs; and I shift restlessly in his grasp. He holds my leg tighter as he pulls the hairs harder and I stifle a moan.

What he's doing is going straight to my cock.

His fingers now moving to tunnel under the edge of my sock, passing the heel, then the arch, headed straight for my toes.

The image of his hand moving under my sock, rubbing my foot, makes it almost impossible to watch. This erotic massage looks like he's giving a hand job to my foot.

And maybe he is. Pressing me in all the right places where I almost cum in my new pants when he slides his fingers between each of my toes, clasping my foot like a hand as he’ in a rhythm as old as time, saws his fingers back and forth, fucking me between each of my toes.

Holy fuck! That feels so good.

He rips off my sock; bending to lick my foot from heel to toes. Putting them all at once into his mouth, he draws on them as I lean forward, clutching his shoulders as he nibbles at each tip; his tongue circling; before delving between.

He shoves my pant leg higher, to lick his way from my ankle up toward the back of my knee.

Then he puts his whole mouth around my calf, breathing deeply, running his tongue back and forth across sinew and muscle that contracts in arousal.

Everything he's doing is going right to my cock.

He bares his teeth, abrading my skin, and I tighten up - everywhere.

He bites me, sucking my skin into his mouth; only to bite me again. And when his bites turn harder, I know they’re going to leave marks, and I don't care.

I move my hand down to rub my cock through the fine fabric.

But that is short lived, as Oliver takes my hands in his, his mouth devouring any semblance of composure I have left.

And we clasp fingers -

His to restrain, mine in surrender.

I want to cry out. But I can't.

I want to move. But he won't let go.

I want to rock my cock up into the new material, rub it into the finely sewn seam, hoping for some friction.

Hoping to have him release me, undo my fly, reach in and stroke me.

Hoping he will bend me over, hold me by the waist -

And ram his cock up me so deep I can taste him all the way into my throat when he cums.

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I'm breathing heavily

Almost there

Almost fucking there

And I'm coming, coming, coming.

Oliver covers my mouth with one hand. And as I cry out, he captures my groans.

And reaching out to kiss, I lick into his palm.

Getting him as hot and bothered as he's got me.

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"I guess we have to buy you those pants now." He says with a grin.

And I know this exercise has been two fold; to show his control in getting me off, and finding a way to pay for the pants.

"Now, let's find you some accessories for that beautiful suit I've just bought."

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■ 5.2 Accessories 2. LEATHER

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■ Oliver:

Elio has insisted in paying for his shoes. But not the pants.

He said if I was smart I wouldn't be making promises that I can't keep.

He knows fucking well that I mean what I say and I say what I mean.

So we hit another store for his accessories; not one found in this area but off the beaten path.

Pun intended.

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"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Elio exclaims as we pull into the parking lot. "A fucking sex shop! You brought me to a fucking sex shop!"

Elio's almost apoplectic and I can't tell if that's a good reaction or not - it could go either way.

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"Dick does exceptional work." I tell him.

"And his last name is Smith?"

"That's what the sign says." I say, pointing up.

"Dick Smith Leather."

"Not Dick Leather-Smith?"

"Leather is not one of his names."

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Inside the shop, Elio is like a kid in a candy store; especially interested in the wide selection of harnesses.

"You're not getting me one of those." He sulks.

"S'okay, I've got one at home."

"Where? I've never seen it." He runs his fingers over the many straps.

"In storage."

"It won't fit me anyway."

"I wasn't thinking of you." I tell him with an evil smile.

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"Give me your hand." I say, giving him no option but to comply.

He puts one out, palm down.

"No, the other way up."

I hand over a leather crop, letting it balance in his hand.

"See good workmanship. Something like this could last forever."

Elio is fascinated. It wobbles in his hand but doesn't tip.

I grab the crop tapping it onto his open palm. It makes a solid thwap but doesn't really sting.

I hit him harder and his hand immediately withdraws.

"Something to work on." I tell him.

"Are we buying it?" He asks; his voice a hushed reverence.

"There’s one at home."

"In storage." It's not a question but a statement.

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"Why are we here if you've got a shitload of sex toys at home?" He asks.

"Patience, my boy, patience."

"Hey, none of that shit here, okay." Elio chastises; voice is returning to normal.

"Best place for it." I tell him. "Dick has a games night twice a month."

"I'm guessing there's no poker involved."

I raise an eyebrow. And Elio smacks me in the arm.

"I'm keeping track, you know." I warn.

"Quaking in my boots." He replies. He's a brave little fucker.

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Finally, we end up at a selection of belts. All styles, weights, widths and sizes.

"Dick really is good." Elio admits as he pulls out two that could rival any designer label.

He holds up the two different styles; both dressy but of entirely opposite weights and diameters.

"Double it." I point to the narrower of the two.

"Here?"

"No one's looking, or for that matter, cares."

He doubles the long, thin leather.

"Hit your leg."

"I'd rather hit yours."

"Fucking do it." I say it harshly and Elio takes a step back.

"Hit your leg or I will." I say with more calm.

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Lesson one: The threat is not in the voice or the tone, but in the consequence.

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He hits his upper thigh but it's a weak-assed attempt at placating me.

"Again."

He's hesitant and I grab the belt from him, hitting the back of his thigh over his jeans.

He reacts; but I must say, is pretty much getting into it.

I hand him back the belt where he's about to return it to the rack.

"Hit your leg." I repeat in a matter of fact tone.

He hits his leg harder, so much so, you could clearly hear the crack.

"Now the other belt." I tell him pointing to the second belt that's less dressy; more utilitarian; pliable and not as rigid.

Elio immediately sets it back down.

"It's gonna hurt." He says; a concerned look on his face.

"Won't know until you try it."

Elio doubles the belt that is easily twice as wide as the first.

He barely flinches when he brings the leather down on his other thigh.

"Again." I tell him.

He does it again and laughs.

"Not as bad as the first one?" I ask him.

"Doesn't hurt as much." He tells me.

"It will if you use it properly, it's a blunter force. It will bring blood to the surface and make the first belt smart more."

"How the fuck do you know all this?" He asks me; although he really doesn't want to know.

And I'm never fucking telling him.

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■ Accessories - 5.3 Oh my! Oh Fucking My!*

(Prelude to Somewhere in Between 5. The Earth and the Stars)

Concludes with Oliver calming Elio's concert nerves in an unconventional way.

  
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■ Elio:

We make our way home with a shitload of stuff from all the stores Oliver has dragged me to. A new suit for Oliver and one for me - that he paid for - as well as shoes and accessories from that leather place.

I know he's got more of that shit in storage, but I can't for the life of me recall seeing it.

"So." I start out.

"So?"

"Don't fucking make me ask."

"Ask for what?"

"Are you being a dick on purpose here, are you trying to make me beg?"

Oliver folds his arms, waiting.

"You're making me do it! You're fucking making me do it!" I'm not begging.

"That attitude will get you shit, you know." He states calmly.  
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Another formal occasion; and I'm all dressed up in my new suit for the second last concert of the semester when I realize my belt is missing.

I could wear another but it matches and fuck if it's not the whole principal of the thing.

"Looking for something?"

"You fucking hid it didn't you!"

I look in my closet once again, hoping he's not completely fucking with me.

Oliver has changed too, and that's when I notice he's wearing MY BELT.

"Just give it to me." I demand. Okay, ask.

"How's the nerves for tonight?"

"I don't get nervous, you know that." I don’t. Well maybe a little.

"Okay, we'll go with that."

I edge closer behind him, hooking my hand through the back of the belt.

Oliver puts his hands behind us pulling me into him, so I let go of the belt winding my arms around to hug as I rub my face into his back.

"Undo my fly," he tells me.

"Give me MY BELT." I counter.

I cup him through his jeans but something's different. He feels different, IT feels different.

"Unzip me."

I'm too curious to be stubborn about this, so I reach inside for his cock and feel what - he's got to be fucking screwing with me.

"Leather? You're wearing leather!"

"Smart boy." He says with a twist of humour. "I want you up there playing your heart out, knowing I'm sitting out there, my cock rubbing, sweating, leaking for you - inside a leather jock, while the audience around us applauds your genius."

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Okay, I'm imagining it, picturing all kinds of things -

"You didn't have it with you in Italy."

I would have found it. Sniffed it, inhaled his scent; much like his bathing suit at the villa.

"I acquired it after."

"While you were married?"

"Undo my belt."

"MY BELT."

"Your belt." He amends. "Now run it backwards through the loops. Slowly."

I do as I'm told, which isn't easy; standing behind him with one hand cupping his leather-clad cock.

"Come here." He says, leading me over to the bed.

"Now double the belt."

I'm apprehensive because it's the narrower of the two and I remember the sting.

"Hit your leg."

It hurts more without the barrier of denim; a whole fucking lot more.

"FUCK!" I cry out as I bring it down in my thigh.

"Again."

The second strike brings tears to my eyes.

Oliver reaches out to take the belt.

"On the bed." He commands.

I crawl up on all fours; waiting.

"How many?" He asks.

"Three?" I say, unsure. I wanted to say two but three sounds better.

"Not four?" Oliver taunts. "You're sure you don't want four?"

I nod; somehow beyond words.

He hits me three times. Once on the ass and then two more times just at the crease, that oh so tender spot, where my buttocks meet my leg.

And when I can finally compose myself enough to get up off the bed; Oliver hands over MY BELT.

He kisses my eyes, my cheeks and my lips as he dramatically hunches over to zip up.

And I lament that I never got a good look at his leather jock.  
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"Now Elio," Oliver says in a syrupy voice. "I want you to imagine, while you're up there entertaining the masses, your ass still smarting from the belt - I want you to imagine, coming home, undoing my fly, lowering my pants and finally, yes finally, being able to put your mouth over the soft leather - to lick the contours of MY COCK, suck me off through the calf skin and - if you're very good - lick it clean after I cum."

Hell of a speech.

And my mouth fills with saliva at the very thought of -

"Can you do that, Elio? Because if you can, I just may let you wear it to your next concert."  
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OH MY.

Oh fucking my.  
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■ Fin - Somewhere in Between - Accessories

(from Somewhere in Between - 5.4 The Earth and the Stars - 07/12/18)

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